


kinktober 2019 - day 15

by birdginia, mondegreened (Mondegreen)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [15]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Emotionally Messy Sex, Knotting, M/M, Overstimulation, Size Kink, Trans Male Character, Xenophilia, body image issues, not related lmao, sex tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 09:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdginia/pseuds/birdginia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mondegreen/pseuds/mondegreened
Summary: "You bear the marks of your struggle, I bear my own.” And most of his own aren’t as tangible as Estinien’s. Some days that’s worse—difficult to tell what hurts, when it’s all inside your own head. He looks Estinien hard in the eye. “And to be honest with you, I’m tired of waiting. So if you’re willing, I am.”





	kinktober 2019 - day 15

**Author's Note:**

> once again added my wife to the co-creator of this one because they beta'd EXTRA HARD and added a bunch to this to make it the best creature it could be. wuv u babe.

“No,” Estinien says firmly, when Alphinaud’s fingers start to tug at the edges of his infirmary gown.

“Ah—“ Alphinaud pulls his hand away as if burned. “Apologies. I didn’t realize—rather, I thought—ahem.” He sits back up, his face flushed and his eyes downcast, one hand still holding himself steady on Estinien’s chest. _Idiot._ “I suppose I’ll just—”

Estinien grabs Alphinaud’s hips before he can move away, holding him firm still straddling Estinien’s waist. “I _didn’t_ say to leave.” 

“But I—“ Estinien cuts Alphinaud off, pulling him in by his collar for a kiss, tongue questing between Alphinaud’s lips. Alphinaud does not stop him, sucking greedily at Estinien’s tongue, unable to hold back a relieved sigh. 

“Do you… wish to wait, until you’re discharged from the infirmary?” Alphinaud asks, slightly breathless, when Estinien lets go. “You’ve told me your condition was much improved, so I only thought—“

“It’s not that.”

Alphinaud waits.

Estinien stays quiet.

“…And what is it?” Alphinaud prods.

“You don’t want to.”

Alphinaud can’t help it—he barks out a surprised laugh. “_Really_? That’s what you think?”

“I _know_. You might not know yet, but if you did—“

“Know _what_?” Alphinaud’s brow furrows. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? About Ser Aymeric?”

“What?” Estinien wrinkles his nose in frustration. It is a direct shot to Alphinaud’s heart. “No, that’s all in the past, I’ve told you this.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tell me some more, it seems.”

Estinien looks away. He is strangely vulnerable like this, not so much the physical weakness brought on by an infirmary stay as the uncharacteristic lack of resolve in his eye. It would be cute if it didn’t make Alphinaud worry so.

“You don’t… you don’t want to see me anymore. Not like this.”

“What in hells are you _talking_ about—”

“Look!” Estinien reaches past Alphinaud and hikes up his gown, exposing his legs up to the thigh.

Alphinaud looks, and sees—

Scales.

Black, shining scales, uneven patches of them that grow in closer clusters the further up Estinien’s legs they go. Some fall in the same direction, some in others, a clearly unnatural growth. 

“The chirurgeons cannot remove them by magic. And they only grow back a few bells later if torn out—trust me, I’ve _tried_.” Estinien grits his teeth and sweeps the robe back over his skin. “Nidhogg never truly left my body, boy. This isn’t a body worth loving.”

Without thinking, Alphinaud grabs for Estinien, his small fingers closing tight on Estinien’s hand. “I don’t care. Why should I care about a few battle scars? We all have them, certainly.”

“This is—“

“Different? How so? You bear the marks of your struggle, I bear my own.” And most of his own aren’t as tangible as Estinien’s. Some days that’s worse—difficult to tell what hurts, when it’s all inside your own head. He looks Estinien hard in the eye. “And to be honest with you, I’m tired of waiting. So if you’re willing, I am.”

Estinien scoffs, but there’s a curve to his lips. (Is it fondness? Alphinaud can but hope.) “Stubborn. If you’re going to insist on deflowering yourself in a sick bed—“

Alphinaud feels the outraged blush rising to his face and is powerless to stop it. “Who said it was a _deflowering_—”

Estinien only laughs. “No need to hide it. But if you do insist, I suppose there’s one more thing you ought to know.” He shifts his body to urge Alphinaud off of him, and slowly lifts his gown aside again, past pale thigh and dark scales until he reaches—

Something that does _not_ look like an Elezen cock.

It’s the same black as the scales, but smooth around the tapered head and part of the shaft, which is flanked by sharp-looking ridges that become larger at the base. It’s a good size, but not an impossible one, Alphinaud notes in silent appraisal. He has to admit it’s surely not… unappealing to look at. Unexpected, but not unappealing.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” Estinien says.

Alphinaud shakes his head without breaking his gaze.

Estinien laughs sharply. “It’s a wonder you weren’t branded a heretic before you even made it to Ishgard.”

“I’m not—it’s _interesting_, that’s all!”

“_Interesting_ is not the word a man wants to hear about his privates, I’ll have you know.”

Alphinaud shifts uncomfortably, still kneeling on the bed to the side of Estinien’s legs. “I-in any case! …May I?”

Estinien shuts his eyes for a moment. “If you must,” he says, finally, but his voice is is less jagged, and he relaxes his shoulders, leaning back so Alphinaud can get his hands on him.

It’s warm, is the first thing Alphinaud notes, warm as blood. Its texture is strangely supple, for its smoothness, and it seems to react to his touch normally—at least, as normally as Alphinaud assumes is normal? Estinien was not wrong about his lack of experience.

But he tries his best to stay confident, grasping Estinien’s cock at the tip and stroking it down only part of the length, not quite sure what he’s meant to do with the ridges. It starts to fill, growing steadily harder as Estinien’s breathing picks up, and Alphinaud keeps up the movement, thumbing at the head the way they do in books he’s read on the subject. It may be a different shape, but a cock is a cock, surely?

“Did you bring any oil?” Estinien asks, and Alphinaud stops.

“Ah, well, no.”

Estinien lets his head drop to hit the pillow. “Damn it all. Foolish of me to think you’d thought this through.”

“I have! It’s just—well.” Alphinaud squirms. “I suppose I also have something to, ah, reveal.”

Estinien raises an eyebrow.

Alphinaud stands up, glances at the door to Estinien’s room just to be absolutely sure, and starts undoing his trousers.

“I was fully prepared to have this conversation, you know, and then you went and—well, ‘upstaged’ is perhaps the wrong word, but—“ He turns away from Estinien, drops his trousers, and tosses them next to his already discarded boots. “Well, here.”

He turns around, cursing himself for his lack of tact, and Estinien’s eyes lock on the junction of Alphinaud’s thighs.

“Ah.” Estinien says. “Well, oil is still helpful for that.”

“Is that all you have to say?!” Alphinaud’s voice goes higher than he would like, but a wave of relief crests inside him nonetheless.

“I didn’t bother to ask, did I?” Estinien actually shrugs. “I’m hardly going to complain.”

“Well. Thank you, I suppose.” Alphinaud climbs back onto the bed, this time sitting on Estinien’s bare thighs. The scales are all the same temperature as his flesh, but their edges catch slightly at his skin, and the sensation is not wholly unpleasant. “And, for your next question, I _have_ been taking the necessary herbs to avoid any, ah, unfortunate accidents.”

“Halone’s grace, how long have you been planning to get fucked?” Estinien’s voice is rough, and something in Alphinaud thrills at the heat in his tone.

Rather than answering, Alphinaud reaches two fingers down to his cunt and finds himself already wet and wanting from nothing but kisses and the sight of Estinien finally exposed for him. Estinien watches, silent and intense, as Alphinaud opens himself up, preparing himself for something much bigger than his own fingers. It’s exhilarating, being the center of Estinien’s attention like this. (At last.)

“I’m ready,” he says—mostly to himself, truly, as he lines himself up with Estinien’s cock and squeezes his eyes shut as he starts to sink down.

Even with the tapering of the tip easing him in, it still hurts—he’s only ever managed three fingers at the most, and even then he feared he’d bleed. But he _wants_ this, desperately, has wanted it since the Highlands, wants to make the both of them feel good, so he braces himself and takes the rest of the head into himself, inch by inch, until—

Fuck. The ridges.

“You’re sure you don’t want any oil,” Estinien asks, concern for Alphinaud and a growing desperation at war in his voice.

“It’s _fine_,” Alphinaud snaps, and allows gravity to force him down. He yelps in pain as the first ridge stretches, stretches, and finally gives way. They’re not as unyielding as they look, but they’re stiff enough to create problems that Alphinaud, in all his contrariness, is determined to solve.

Estinien’s breath is losing its steadiness the further Alphinaud pushes himself, and his hands land on Alphinaud’s hips, holding them tight.

“It is taking everything I have,” he says quietly, “not to force the rest of my cock into you, this instant,” and Alphinaud shudders hard, the image clear in his mind—as clear as it has been since he’d first seen the Azure Dragoon’s broad armored shoulders and capable hands and soft, cruel lips.

“You’d like that, would you?” Estinien grins. “You’re even more adventurous than I thought, boy.”

Before Alphinaud can answer, he finds their positions reversed as Estinien flips him onto his back with speed and force that can hardly be expected of an injured man. His breath is hot as dragonfire against Alphinaud’s ear, his arms caging Alphinaud in.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the initiative,” Estinien says, “but I tire of being _looked after_.” And with that, he shoves into Alphinaud faster than Alphinaud could have managed were it up to him. Like forcing a joint back into place, Alphinaud thinks madly, like realigning a bone, get it over with—and he swears he _hears_ himself tear open as the second and third ridges push past his entrance. He muffles his shout into his sleeve, and keeps the fabric in his mouth as Estinien starts to move.

It feels thicker inside him than it looked, and it almost feels as if it’s thickening further, the ridges scraping at his inner walls and spreading him open. Estinien fucks into him harder, as if something in him has stopped holding him back, and Alphinaud can’t blink back the tears springing to his eyes from pain and exposure both. It hurts, worse than most battle wounds he’s received, but he doesn’t ever want to stop, the sensations overwhelming—and then the head of Estinien’s cock hits a spot that sends numbing sparks down to Alphinaud’s fingertips, and he bites the inside of his wrist.

He chose a time for this visit when the infirmary would only have a few chirurgeons on duty, and most of them are either tending to other patients or sitting bored, waiting for an emergency. It wouldn’t be the first time Alphinaud stayed overnight, so he’s fairly certain they won’t be interrupted, but the sounds of someone shouting in pain, perceived or otherwise, would alert someone to something Alphinaud is not prepared to explain to anyone in Ishgard.

Estinien, however, doesn’t seem to care. His grunts of exertion become louder with each thrust, and the infirmary bed creaks loudly from the heavy movement, the frame starting to slam into the wall in rhythmic thuds. Alphinaud should say something, should remind Estinien about the noise, but the second he removes his wrist from his mouth he has to replace it immediately, barely stifling a helpless moan as Estinien’s pace becomes less steady, the ridges of his cock pressing against every spot inside Alphinaud that makes him tremble.

Estinien practically shouts as he thrusts deeper than Alphinaud thought possible, and Alphinaud feels Estinien’s cock pulse inside of him, hot and sudden. He has given a lot of consideration to what it would feel like, were Estinien to come inside him, and this is—more than he expected, filling him up until he feels it start to spill out of himself even with Estinien still inside, and then—

“A moment,” Estinien mutters, starting to pull out. Alphinaud nearly screams. It feels so much bigger coming out than it did in, impossibly so, as if it really has grown inside him, and the stretch is too much for him to handle; he shakes his head furiously, willing Estinien to stay in.

“—Ah. I think I’m stuck.”

“_How,_” Alphinaud snaps.

“You think I know what a dragon prick does when it’s finished?” Estinien near-collapses on top of Alphinaud, breathing heavy. “Maybe it’ll shrink again. Give it a bit.”

Alphinaud starts to argue, but Estinien rolls his hips in an attempt to get comfortable and the thick base of Estinien’s cock presses down on that spot he’d found earlier, the one Alphinaud has only been able to find for himself a handful of times. He whimpers, reaching down to grab at Estinien’s hips, hoping to keep him in that position, to keep that perfect pressure inside him until he can find his own release.

“You’re in favor of this development, I take it.”

“Shut up,” Alphinaud half-moans, squirming beneath him with all dignity forgotten, reaching in between the two of them to find his clit.

“Let me,” Estinien says, brushing Alphinaud’s hand aside and pressing a thumb down, and Alphinaud lets himself surrender.

It barely takes seconds for Alphinaud to start to shudder and jerk and finally to cry out, his cunt clenching down on Estinien as waves of pleasure crash over him again and again. When he collapses back onto the sheets, gasping, Estinien moves his hand, and Alphinaud tries to grab at his wrist. 

“Don’t stop. Please.”

Estinien grins. “Well, when you ask so prettily.”

His second orgasm comes faster than the first, the pain in his nethers lessening as his muscles relax from release, his body growing used to the way Estinien feels inside him. He’s given up all pretense of staying quiet by now—the chirurgeons couldn’t separate them if they tried, he justifies to himself.

“I think it’s gone down,” Estinien says as Alphinaud shakes through the aftershocks, but he whines as Estinien starts to pull out.

“Easy, now, give me—oh, look at that.” 

Alphinaud looks up to sees Estinien’s cock, covered in slick and come and, more likely than not, blood—and nearly fully hard again.

“Suppose I’m saddled with the beast’s filthy breeding habits now.” Estinien snorts, but he’s gazing at the wreck that is Alphinaud, legs spread and waiting, hair sticking sweaty to his forehead, and he lets out a hungry noise and pushes Alphinaud’s trembling shoulders back against the bed once more.

“Insatiable, aren’t you,” he says in Alphinaud’s ear. Even exhausted from two climaxes, Alphinaud opens his mouth to hotly debate which of them is the _insatiable_ one, but can’t manage more than a groan as Estinien pushes back inside. His cunt is sore, but only in the satisfying way a muscle is sore after a long walk, and he suddenly can’t find a coherent thought in his head that isn’t _more_.

When Estinien touches his clit this time, Alphinaud flinches a little, but makes no move to stop him. He wants this, needs this, has been dreaming of this for months now. He’s full of everything he’s wanted and more, and he’s not going to let this opportunity pass.

Estinien’s thrusts are long and deep, unhurried now, and every drag against his inner walls has Alphinaud shivering against Estinien’s chest. Estinien leans in and sucks a mark high on the side of Alphinaud’s neck where his collar will never hide it, his teeth sinking in and making Alphinaud convulse around him, wailing through his third climax of the night.

“I won’t last much longer if you keep doing _that_,” Estinien murmurs against the shell of Alphinaud’s ear, and Alphinaud groans in complaint. 

_Don’t leave_, he doesn’t say.

Estinien’s thumb continues pressing hard circles into his clit, and Alphinaud shakes, his body hesitating but the rest of him screaming for this to never stop.

_I can’t,_ he bites back, because he can, he must, he needs this to last forever, because something in him knows that leaving this room could mean not seeing Estinien again for gods know how long. So he begs Estinien with his hips, tears returning to his eyes and flowing freely, his fingertips bruising Estinien’s sides.

Estinien doesn’t notice Alphinaud’s crying, or perhaps just doesn’t draw attention to it, but he does kiss the bite mark on his neck as he fucks him into the mattress. It’s so much, too much for his body and his heart, but more than that it’s too _good_.

When Estinien finally comes again, Alphinaud is shaking as if possessed, his hips unsure whether to push against or away from Estinien’s hand, and when Estinien is trapped inside him again, his moans become incoherent babbling, _please_s becoming _stop_s becoming _thank you_s and all of it running together into a mess of overwhelming _feeling_, until he hits that crest one more time with a soundless scream and breaks apart.

Estinien takes his hand away and starts to ease himself out, and this time, Alphinaud cannot stop him, his limbs powerless and his body drained. He forces himself up just enough to clean up some of the mess they’ve made with a corner of the blanket bunched up at the end of the cot, and then pulls it over both of them. 

“You still think you need to take on everything at once,” Estinien says, half-chiding, and Alphinaud wilts. 

Estinien laughs and grabs at Alphinaud’s waist, holding him close underneath the covers. “It’s a flaw, certainly, but an understandable one.” 

Alphinaud chuckles softly, but can’t find any more smart remarks over the pleasant, tired haze in his body and mind, and simply lets himself close his eyes and be held. 

**Author's Note:**

> obviously ("obviously") this is not an accurate representation of a dragon dick, but rather a dragon-corrupted elezen dick.


End file.
